


Underworld - N7 Month Day 12

by miceenscene



Series: N7 Month 2019 [10]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: AU, F/M, Memory Loss, N7 month, Pre-Mass Effect 2, Smoking, poetic sexual references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 18:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miceenscene/pseuds/miceenscene
Summary: “Say my name,” he breathed against her skin.“Archangel,” she whispered.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Series: N7 Month 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533266
Comments: 7
Kudos: 87





	Underworld - N7 Month Day 12

**Author's Note:**

> Technically a sequel to Day 3 - Assassin, but this is enjoyable/understandable without reading. Also we playing real fast and loose with the prompts here, folks. But eh, who you gonna call? The fanfic police? :P -K

She was sitting on the balcony’s edge, silhouetted black by the red lights of Omega. Tilting her head back, a curling plume of smoke blew from her mouth, dissipating a moment later. Taking a final drag, she flicked the butt away and had pulled out another before it disappeared from view. Her freckles were momentarily illuminated by the efficient flicker of the lighter. And then she relaxed back, hand holding the cigarette balanced across her raised knee, the other foot dangling over the edge.

He could watch her smoke for hours. He had on occasions before this one. There was a quiet grace in the ritual, a fluidity in her movements that only seemed to inhabit her in battle. Battle and here, sitting on his balcony and surveying the underbelly of Omega like a valiant empress.

_ “Wait, wait! It’s me.” He wrenched off his helmet and held out his hands, stepping towards her. “It’s me. She--You know me--” _

_ She just pointed the gun higher. “One more step, Archangel, and I’m going to put this bullet through your brain.” _

Careful to not make any noise and disturb the scene, he sat up and stretched. A pleasant ache suffused through his muscles. Of course there were all sorts of bruises and scars and injuries scattered across his frame these days. But this was one type of ache he didn’t mind.

Without getting up from his bed, he simply watched her for another few minutes. Not for the first time, he wondered how she was here. The how, the where, the  _ why _ \--questions not even she seemed to know the answers to. He’d assumed at first that she simply wasn’t telling him for whatever reason. But now… she didn’t seem to care. But he did. He couldn’t let it go.

No surprise there. He couldn’t let anything go even back when she was just dead.

_ “Are you following me, Archangel?” she asked, arms crossing and eyes narrowing as she faced him down in the alley. _

_ He let a mandible twitch up in something like a smile. “Are you saying you don’t already know?” _

Rising finally, he stepped out on the balcony. A temporary sideways slant of her eyes was the only acknowledgement of his presence. Though after a few seconds she reached over and offered one of the cigarettes.

He shook his head, taking a seat on the edge of the balcony opposite of her. “Hasn’t humanity known for centuries that those are deadly for you?”

Half a smile crossed her face, not quite reaching her eyes. “Yeah. But sometimes you want something to remind you of your mortality.” She was quiet for another slow drag, letting the smoke go with a sigh. “And to guarantee it.”

_ Observing her handiwork across the roof, he couldn’t help but be impressed--not that he expected anything less from her. “What is it that you do for Aria exactly?”  _

_ She looked his way and then unceremoniously kicked the body off the building’s edge. “I do what she needs done and I don’t ask questions.” _

She wasn’t back. Not really. Sure, there was a version of her here. A simulacrum that could walk and talk and fight and drink. And when it was just her and him and the darkness he could very nearly swear she was there. But the lights always came back on. The reminders always returned. She might have her face. She might have her skills. She might have her every freckle in the same exact spot. But she didn’t have her scars. She didn’t have her memories. She didn’t have her soul. 

Sometimes it didn’t matter. But sometimes it was the only thing that did.

_ “It sure is a tempting offer, but I don’t work well with crowds.” She gave his shoulder a single pat and then stepped around him. _

_ But he just turned and caught her wrist. “I’m not asking you to join my team. I’m asking you to join  _ me _ .” _

Right now, the reminder stung sharply but the grief didn’t close in. He merely watched her finish her cigarette, openly and unabashedly staring because he’d already lost nearly two years of the chance to do so. He wasn’t going to give up anymore. She didn’t mind and he knew because she was staring right back at him. It was a habit, or a test, or perhaps a game they kept playing. Who would blink first, who would crack under the watchful eye of the other. If they could stand up under each other’s scrutiny, the rest of the world didn’t have a hope to try and break them.

He blinked first tonight, getting up and closing the distance between the two of them. He tucked his head into the crook of her neck, running his mandibles along her smooth skin and slipping an arm around her to keep her safe.

_ He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes scouring her euphoric face for some sign, some promise. “Say my name,” he breathed against her skin. _

_ “Archangel,” she groaned, her spine bowing up to meet him. _

He had to ask. He always asked. Another game, another habit. But this one was just for him.

“Say my name,” he said in a low voice, resting his forehead against hers and letting his eyes drift shut to guard against the disappointment he already knew was going to come.

She didn’t reply for a while and it was all the answer he could bear.

“I would if you told me,” she said as he lifted his head away and looked out at the city. Maybe the difference did matter tonight after all. She squeezed his arm, drawing his gaze back to her. “I’d say it, if you’d tell me.”

He shook his head. “You already know it.”

Her eyes met his and to anyone else she would look impassive, uncaring. But he could see the effort hidden behind the facade, he could see the digging, the searching. She was still trying; she hadn’t given herself up for lost yet. And that was why he kept asking. Maybe someday she’d remember the answer.

“So you keep saying,” she muttered, glancing away. She extinguished her cigarette with a twist of her wrist. “I should go… Aria has another job for me.”

He didn’t move, but neither did she. He simply lifted a hand and smoothed a few strands of her short hair. “Blue Suns?”

“You know I can’t answer that.”

_ “We’re good together.” Always were, always would be; not even death could change that. _

_ She pulled her gaze away the decadent view of the station spread out below them and a smile appeared in her eyes that was so like her old self it made him ache. “Yeah… we are.”  _

Her hand slid up the front of his carapace to grip his cowl and pull him down for a demanding kiss. She was warm in his arms, so blazing bright that half of him was afraid she’d be extinguished again if he let her go. Her breath was acrid and sharp in his lungs and he never wanted to taste anything else for the rest of his life.

“Say my name,” she whispered, her lips still brushing against his own.

“Shepard… Jane.”

The smile appeared in her eyes just like he remembered. “That feels right.”


End file.
